


A birthday gift

by EdwardNotSoLittle, JollyRogue



Series: Terror: Drabble Collections / Prompt and Kinkmeme Fills [6]
Category: The Terror (TV 2018)
Genre: Collaboration, Francis drunkenly making a bad call, Inappropriate birthday gift idea, Jipples - Jopson’s Sensitive Nipples, M/M, Rape/Non-con Elements, abuse of stewards, birthday sex!, kinkmeme fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-02
Updated: 2019-11-25
Packaged: 2021-01-20 19:58:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21287345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EdwardNotSoLittle/pseuds/EdwardNotSoLittle, https://archiveofourown.org/users/JollyRogue/pseuds/JollyRogue
Summary: Francis sends James an impromptu birthday gift.That gift, it turns out, is Thomas Jopson.
Relationships: Captain Francis Crozier/Thomas Jopson, Commander James Fitzjames/Thomas Jopson
Series: Terror: Drabble Collections / Prompt and Kinkmeme Fills [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1542697
Comments: 36
Kudos: 48





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [JollyRogue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JollyRogue/gifts), [hollyG35](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hollyG35/gifts).

> Fill from the kinkmeme!!
> 
> https://terrorkinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/396.html?thread=232844#cmt232844

Jopson felt one last shiver run up his spine as he descended below deck of the icebound Erebus, the sealed envelope he’d been personally sent to deliver to Captain Fitzjames tucked into the pocket on his waistcoat beneath his layers and slops.

It was late, and the sun was already down, though of course he supposed they saw it for less and less amount of time each passing day.

He rubbed his ears with his mittened hand, darn it he’d forgotten his welsh wig, good lord they were cold.

It was rather unexpected to him, that Francis had sent him over to Erebus so late in the evening. Men were probably getting ready for bed.

Then he’d told him it was Captain Fitzjames’s birthday and he’d procrastinated enough, he absolutely had to send the younger captain something.

Originally he’d stared at his captain, lover, like he’d gone absolutely mad even though he knew the real truth was he was inebriated.

That was the reason right? Normally the man spoke so disdainfully in regards to the young roguish captain.

Nonetheless he’d agreed, with a polite smile and a bow of his head.

Lieutenant Little had looked mildly concerned and had protested sending him over to Erebus alone but Captain Crozier said it was necessary. In fact it was of the utmost urgency, whatever that meant.

“Mr Jopson? What brings you here?” came the surprised voice of Lieutenant Le Vesconte as the man came strolling down the corridor, he was already divested of his great coat and wore a gray undershirt with a dark blue waistcoat, cravat undone.

The man was likely getting ready to turn in.

“Good evening, sir, forgive me for being unannounced, I was sent to speak with Captain Fitzjames.” he explained shaking some of the snow from his hair.

“Is something the matter?”

He couldn’t help but blink not quite understanding, “Sir,”

“It’s late.” Henry pointed out with a frown.

Oh that.

Jopson felt a bit of color rush to his face as he shook his head, the smile on his face polite but abashed. “Erm… yes, sir, it is.”

When the lieutenant continued to look at him in an intense study he offered some more reassurance to the man, “You needn’t worry, sir. I was just sent to speak with Captain Fitzjames and deliver something on the Captain’s behalf.”

Le Vesconte’s mouth pursed into a thin line, puzzled by this matter but he nodded and motioned him to follow.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

As he and Le Vesconte entered the great cabin they found Fitzjames reading some charts and Bridgens idly cleaning about the place.

Henry knocked his knuckles against the open sliding door to make his presence known.

“Henry Dundas, I thought you were going to bed.” Fitzjames grumbled to himself without looking up at the chart.

Le Vesconte snorted in indignation and rolled his eyes at his friend’s snark. “James.”

“What?” the man muttered, a smirk forming on the corner of his lips as he heard the clear agitation in Henry’s voice.

Fitzjames looked up expectantly with a raised eyebrow, said eyebrow along with its partner, lifting higher as he saw Crozier’s steward standing there, with his ever present friendly smile on his face.

“Oh. Good evening, Mr Jopson. What a surprise.” the man uttered with a inquisitive glance towards his lieutenant.

“Yes, sir, good evening. I hope I am not intruding.” his teeth gave a brief chatter after he spoke making his smile more of a grimace.

Their younger captain shook his head in earnest, “No… not at all. Good Lord man, you’re soaked through sailor.”

Mr Bridgens came bustling over and began to help him out of his slops even though he awkwardly tried to protest and it wasn’t long until the things were hanging over the brazier to dry, and he let out a sigh.

“I was just making tea, Mr Jopson, would you like a cup?” Bridgens asked politely, a slightly concerned look in his old eyes as he watched the small tremors that still shook him lightly.

Just as he was about to protest Fitzjames waved a hand at the older steward and spoke for him, “Yes please, Mr Bridgens.”

“Oh, but sir, I really shan’t be staying too long I’m afraid, I-I mean.. erm… I mean to say, sir-” he paused his face flushing as he stumbled to find the words he wanted as to not seem rude, “I.. thank you, Captain, but I just came by to wish you a happy birthday, sir.”

James face lit up with a warm smile that even reached his eyes and Thomas felt a wave of joy at the fact that it seemed just his words had cheered the young captain’s mood.

He offered a polite smile as he reached into his waist coat pocket to retrieve the envelope Francis had sent with him.

“I was also sent to give you this, sir, from Captain Crozier.”

Fitzjames actually looked surprised before he let out an amused, yet genuinely pleased laugh as he stepped forward to hand it to him.

Bridgens finished with the two cups of tea and set them both on the great cabin table and James motioned the younger steward to sit.

He did so, feeling awkwardly out of place.

“Will there be anything else, sir?” John asked with such professionalism Jopson almost admired the man in a way.

“No, that will be all for tonight. Thank you Mr Bridgens. I shall call if I need you.”

“For tonight, sir? Are you certain?” the older man asked with a bit of bewilderment in his voice, but Jopson could tell the man had already learned not to argue.

“Yes, John, I can still dress myself for bed. I think I should do so every once in a while, don’t you?”

“It’s what I am here for, sir.”

“Yes, but tonight I am relieving you of that duty. Please, John, you’ve earned some rest.” James spoke with such a genuine compassion that it made Jopson smile.

Mr Bridgens left it at that, nodding politely and uttering an even toned, ‘Thank you, sir.’ before departing.

Jopson turned back to Captain Fitzjames who peered at the letter curiously before quirking an entertained eyebrow at him.

“I pray that it is not another lecture, for my borrowing Neptune last week? I heard the beast made quite a mess when he came back onboard ship.”

Thomas laughed softly at the memory of Francis’s infuriated face when he’d found Neptune curled up sopping wet in his bunk, melted ice all over the great cabin and lower deck.

Of course then there was poor Edward who had slipped on the snow melt, when he’d been woken up in a very grumpy mood upon having to report to take the dog watch.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

_“Argh!! Blazing Christ! Who in their God damned minds made this fucking mess! What is this! I swear to God I will paint the damn wall with red after I knock some teeth out!” Lieutenant Little’s gruff baritone was a ferocious growl that could even rival their Irish Captain’s rage._

_He lifted his head tiredly from his bunk when he’d heard the man’s yelling._

_“I-I… it wasn’t me, sir, but I-I did see Neptune running through here not that long ag-” the voice of some poor sailor squeaked and Jopson winced when he heard a thud of someone being slammed against the wall of the passage and held there._

_ **‘Oh no. Neptune what did you do now?’** _

_Groaning he buried his face in the stripped fabric of his pillow as soon as he heard Little’s heavy booted footsteps stomping down the passage._

_ **‘Here it comes.’** _

_There was no knock, there was no warning yell, his bed cabin door was yanked open so hard it rattled on its hinges and he bolted upright as Little tromped the small distance to his bunk._

_Ever composed he simply met the man with a calm, patient stare, that was until he was grabbed by the front of his night shirt and lifted out of bed._

_Clearing his throat nervously he stared at Edward and raised a hand to try to hide the grin that was starting to form on his face._

_The poor lieutenant, good lord he looked a sight having just gotten up, and in a hurry too._

_Dark brown hair trussed from sleep, hat missing, great coat collar sticking up and buttoned incorrectly, cravat hastily tied, one of his shirt tails was still untucked._

_“Mr Jopson! Why are you not looking after that blasted animal!” he roared in his face and Jopson had to bite the back of a hand, shoulders shaking with laughter, and Edward’s glare intensified._

_“Is this funny to you sailor!?”_

_Quickly he shook his head, eyes watering copiously as he tried to keep a straight face. “No… no, sir.”_

_Unable to help himself at the mere sight of the lieutenant’s appearance he huffed a breath that came out more of a whimper as he reached out with shaking hands and fixed the man’s collar, patting his shoulders and smoothing out the creases._

_“You are supposed to be watching that beast, Mr Jopson! That is your job!”___

_ _ _Wait a minute._ _ _

_ _ _He frowned as a realization came to him._ _ _

_ _ _“Ehm… yes, sir, though with permission, Lieutenant Irving had been put in charge of seeing to Neptune’s return from Erebus.”_ _ _

_ _ _Little glared daggers into his eyes and he took a deep breath as he saw lieutenant Hodgson and lieutenant Irving slinking past his bed cabin likely having heard Little’s wrath from wherever they were._ _ _

_ __ _

_He gave a polite smile and pointed towards the door._

_ _“Pardon my saying lieutenant, but if you hurry, sir, there goes Irving now.”_ _

_With a growl the man dropped him back onto his bunk and stormed out of his bed cabin._

_“Lieutenant Irving!! Get over here! Now!”_

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The memory fading to the back of his head he laughed heartily as he recalled poor Irving a blubbering mess in the face of first lieutenant Edward Little’s notorious waking choler.

“Regretfully, it was more Lieutenant Little who made a mess, sir, he and Irving got into a bit of a scuffle. As for the contents of that, I’m afraid I do not know, it was meant for your eyes only Captain.”

“Did he beat the faith right outta that poor man?” Le Vesconte snickered from the doorway.

“Eavesdropping are you, Dundy? Don’t you have something better to do?”

Henry scoffed in irritation turning around and beginning to walk out of the room. “You hadn’t dismissed me yet, you bloody sod, but yes, I can go to bed, thanks so much for asking.”

James chuckled softly as he used a letter opener to unseal the envelope and pull out a folded piece of paper.

A silence filled the room and Fitzjames’s eyebrows kept getting higher and higher with each word he seemed to be take in.

“Oh… well, that is a lovely birthday surprise.” James muttered softly to himself, rising from his chair to circle around the large table.

Frowning Jopson couldn’t help but notice the change in the tone of the Captain of Erebus’s voice.

“Sir,” he said softly his frown deepening when the man moved to the cabin door and lock it, “, is something the matter?”

“No, not at all. Although, I will have you stand Mr Jopson.”

Blinking in confusion he continued to eye the older man over his shoulder, mouth pursed tightly as he tried to register everything.

After a moment he did stand and he was about to turn around when Fitzjames’s voice stopped him.

“As you were sailor, I didn’t give you permission to look at me.”

Startled slightly by the reprimanding tone in the dark haired captain’s voice he licked his chapped lips nervously, turning his head back to stare straight ahead awaiting further instruction as he knew was proper as a gentleman’s steward.

It didn’t ease his rattled thoughts though and he couldn’t help but speak quietly, “I… have I done something wrong, sir?”

When the man didn’t answer but instead began to approach him from behind he felt a bead of sweat drip down his temple, he didn’t like this.

He could feel a defined nose nuzzling against his ear and he jumped in surprise, taking a couple steps forward and turning to face his younger captain with very wide and very startled, sea-colored eyes.

“Oh! No, sir! I can’t… I-I mean.. erm… I’m flattered but… I shan’t think that will bode well with the Captain.”

To his surprise Fitzjames thrust the note out towards him and he stared at the piece of paper dumbfounded.

“Read it.” James chortled.

Slowly he reached out and took the piece of paper, his lover’s handwriting all over it, and as soon as it was in his hand James advanced forward a step, an arm looping around his waist to pull him in closer.

He wiggled and squirmed uncomfortably, a small gasp tore free from his throat as he continued to let his eyes scan the paper with frantic eyes, the man’s touches proving to be quite a distraction.

**Dear James, Fitzfuckjames,**

**Happy birthday, since I have nothing else I can really gift upon you, I thought I shall let you have full rein of my beloved Jopson’s beautiful body for a day, but I swear to the Gods, if you damage him in any way I’ll have your head on a platter.**

**Yours truly,**

**Francis Rawdon Moira Crozier, RN, Captain of the H.M.S Terror**

Jopson’s eyes widened to the point of resembling the saucers on which he served afternoon tea.

Francis did what!? Without telling him!? How could he!?

This was not what he agreed to!

The roguish captain’s lips were mouthing eagerly at his neck and he wiggled, pushing two insistent hands against the man’s chest.

“Oh! No, sir! I-I knew nothing about this… I really must protest! There must be some mista—ahh! C-Cap’n that hurts!” Jopson whined as a large hand tangled into his hair forcing his head back to give further access to his neck.

Fitzjames backed him up to the great table and he stumbled backwards with small yelp, the older man was immediately on top of him.

“Sir! Really, I must protest this is highly inappropriate.. and I-mmn!”

James stifled his protests with a warm hand, his thumb caressing the soft, delicate skin just beneath his left eye as he stared back at him with wide eyes that were quickly becoming glassy with tears.

“Shh… hush now, Jopson. Captain’s orders. None of that, you hear me?” he asked, his voice though questioning held hints of a dark threat underlying it.

He nodded quickly and James placed a gentle kiss to his temple and carded his hand through his hair a couple times before letting his hand fall.

The man’s mouth was back on his neck, sucking and nibbling here and there and he failed to stifle a gasp as the touches started to heat up something deep in his belly.

When two long fingered hands ran down his clothed flanks to find his hips he let out a small groan, a bright blush spreading across his face as the man continued to assault his neck.

“I-I… g-gentle… please, sir...” he managed to squeak softly.

A tremor ran down his spine as he felt the captain smile against the tender flesh against his neck.

“Perhaps, if you’re good.” he purred with a voice that went straight to his groin.

Swallowing thickly he let the older man pull him up by his lapels and drag him with a rough hand towards his bed cabin.

This was going to be a rough night.


	2. Chapter 2

Commander Fitzjames closed the bedcabin door behind them with a quiet rumble, and Jopson shuddered. Whether it was from the panic at suddenly being at the commander’s mercy, or from the queer sensation of the commander’s hands on his body just before, he wasn’t sure. Fitzjames’ breath, his lips on Jopson’s neck had made him shiver as he only did from Crozier doing the same. 

What had Crozier been thinking!? Writing such a note …! Had he thought, perhaps, in a flight of drunken fancy, that he was doing Jopson a favour, that his steward and lover would enjoy the embrace of another man for a change?

Jopson wouldn’t. He  _ shouldn’t _ . This was wrong! He started another attempt to get out of it. “Commander Fitzjames,” he pleaded, “I took you for an honorable man. You don’t have to do this.”

“Tut, tut, Jopson,” Fitzjames moved toward him which took but one step in the tiny sleeping quarter. He put his hand where it had previously been, onto Jopson’s hip, appreciating its curve with a caress before grasping him round the waist and pulling him closer. “You’re right. I don’t have to do this. But I  _ want _ to.”

“Sir! Think of your honor⸺”

Fitzjames chuckled, drawing Jopson yet closer to him with one hand at the back of the steward’s head so he could⸺again⸺nuzzle his face into Jopson’s collar. His long, sharp nose tickled as it sought bare skin under Jopson’s cravat, inhaling his scent. Jopson winced, his palms in front of him pressing weakly against Fitzjames’ chest. He dared not resist more firmly.

“Please, sir!” He gasped, his words trailing off into a breathy sigh, as Fitzjames’ tongue found a sensitive place below his ear, and another behind⸺spots where only Crozier had teased him before, but it made no difference: Jopson’s body reacted with a pleasant shudder, and a rush of warmth coiling deep in his gut.  _ God damn it! _

He tried to struggle, but both the overwhelming sensation of being thus teased and the fear of provoking the commander stopped him from delivering anything but the weakest of pushes, a barely noticeable message that Fitzjames naturally chose to ignore.

“Now, be a good lad, Jopson, and it’ll be nice for you, too.” Fitzjames slid a sturdy thigh between Jopson’s, parting the steward’s legs with it; then grinding against him in a manner blatantly demonstrating his arousal. “Feel it?” he whispered into Jopson’s ear, breath hot on shivering skin. “Thought I was forever condemned to admire you from afar. Today’s indeed my lucky day.”

“Sir, this must be a mistake,” Jopson protested feebly, hot shame rising up in his face as he felt his own erection awaken. How could it not, with the older man rutting against him like this? He knew his body’s reaction was natural and predictable, and he was quick to excite, yet it humiliated him utterly. 

Fitzjames, of course, had been waiting for it. “I see you’re enjoying it. Good boy.” He gave Jopson’s arousal a gentle squeeze, feeling along its length. “Now, look at me.” He grasped Jopson’s jaw with the other hand, clearly intent on having him in his control.

At that moment⸺perhaps unwisely⸺Jopson summoned up his strength, pulling his head away from the commander’s hand. “No,” he pleaded, eyes squeezed shut in a futile effort to stop tears of shame. For a second he was free, Fitzjames having lost his grip on him in surprise, and Jopson stumbled backwards against the railing of the bunk bed. There was no way out, though⸺he was trapped, as before. 

And Fitzjames reacted swiftly. 

He slapped Jopson across the face, his flat palm connecting with the younger man’s cheek in a hard smack. 

Jopson gasped in shock. Dizzy, he held onto the railing behind him with one hand, while feeling the hot, stinging side of his face with the other, eyes and mouth open in disbelief. Not even Crozier had ever hit him!

He watched, silent but breathing heavily, as the commander fumbled with the buttons of his trousers.

“Will you be good now?” Fitzjames asked. “Or do I need to be rough?”

Slowly, Jopson nodded. Tears were pooling in his eyes. “Yes,” he whispered.

“Yes what?”

“I’ll be good.”

“Splendid. Get on your knees.” Fitzjames had opened the front flap of his trousers to reveal tight white underdrawers distended by a solid hard ridge that was almost peeking out over the hem. “You know what to do.”

Jopson obeyed.

With his nimble fingers, experienced from years of fumbling with Crozier’s trousers, he made quick work of it. 

The sight of Commander Fitzjames’ cock, standing at attention close before him, was an oddly familiar one and yet not the same: it was longer than Crozier’s and slightly curved; even the foreskin seemed longer, the tip showing out only halfway although he appeared to be fully hard. Jopson couldn’t help but compare them in his mind. A marvellous thing, indeed, how each of these two mens’ endowments mirrored their bodily appearance: Fitzjames⸺tall, lanky, and elegant. Crozier, stocky, strong and thick. 

But he had no business thinking about that now. If he did his best now, Jopson realized, he might be able to bring Fitzjames to a finish this way, which would mean he’d have a chance of getting away right afterwards and would not be forced to do more. He had enough practice that he might even go about it as if it were a mechanical task, his mind purposely detached from it.

He moved his lips across the warm length of Fitzjames’ manhood, teasing him slowly before using his tongue to do the same; a manner of titillation that always drove his captain near mad and that he could never resist. Fitzjames, too, seemed to approve of it; his hand lay gently on Jopson’s head, caressing his hair. “Good boy,” he muttered.

Jopson closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. That hand in his hair, resting warm and heavy on his head like a warning that he, Fitzjames, might take control at any moment; the silky hot sensation on his tongue, the knowledge that Fitzjames was looking down at him intensely and observing his every breath and lick⸺it took away all his resolve to stay indifferent. Like a punch to his gut, Jopson felt a near overwhelming wave tighten deep inside him, making him whimper involuntarily against the head of the commander’s cock. 

Panicking, he closed his mouth around it to stifle further sounds. There was no denying it: his body reacted not only to the familiar feeling of being used for pleasure⸺as he knew it from being with Crozier⸺but also to the humiliation of the wrong kind of pleasure, that he could not,  _ should _ not want. 

_ Oh God.  _

He moved his head up and down the other man’s shaft, grasping its base with his other hand to hide the fact that his hand was shaking. Fitzjames would see. He would need only a single look to confirm that Jopson had gotten even more excited, that he was indeed the debauched whore they all had always suspected him to be. He pushed his thighs closer together in a desperate attempt to deny his aching arousal.

“Very good,” Fitzjames hummed. Perhaps he wasn’t looking at him at all but had his eyes closed, lost in the wet heat of Jopson’s mouth.

Quickly, now. It wouldn’t be so bad if Fitzjames did not notice. Jopson sucked him harder, working up all the saliva he could manage to get the entire shaft glistening wet and to stop his own mouth from getting dry. The briny taste was not unlike that of Crozier’s, and that familiarity made it easy to find his routine; but, oh, the humiliation proved a devil’s circle. Each time the unwelcome arousal coiled around Jopson’s loins, sending his hard prick twitching in his drawers, a hit of shame made him moan in desperation around that thick cock leaking in his mouth, which in turn incensed Fitzjames who groaned and barely restrained himself from bucking his full length inside. 

“Oh God,”⸺a ragged breath⸺ “yes, like that … Like that.” He found Jopson’s head with both hands, thumbs caressing Jopson’s cheeks, following the dimples where it hollowed out when he sucked hard enough. “Oh, you look so pretty … take it so good, be good for me.” He signified Jopson to pause for a moment so he could trace the steward’s lips with an appreciating fingertip around his circumference. 

Jopson had to look up at Fitzjames for this, and tried to read the commander’s expression, not sure whether he was supposed to stay still or to continue.  _ Please let me continue _ , he begged in his mind. Then it would be over all the sooner. Surely Fitzjames would not be able to bugger him, at least not for a while, then. 

Fitzjames’ cheeks were flushed, and he licked his lips as he looked down at him.

“Oh, so you want more, do you?”

Jopson forced an affirmative sound as far as he was able to with his mouth utterly full. The quicker he could finish this, the better! 

Fitzjames grinned. “Ah, you eager trollop! Look at you!” But he held Jopson’s head firmly in place, preventing him from taking him in deeper. “Trust me, I’d love to spend in that pretty mouth and make you swallow it all. But I’m not finished yet! You didn’t think you’d get away without being fucked, did you?”

Jopson’s eyes went wide.  _ Oh no. _

“Oh yes.” Fitzjames grinned, and pulled away, caressing Jopson’s cheek. “Come on. Get up, and climb onto the bed.”


	3. Chapter 3

When he didn’t move fast enough Fitzjames cast him a warning glare, “Up on the bed, you don’t look at me unless I tell you to. Don’t make me repeat myself.”

Jopson stared up at the commander through his tear blurred vision and he huffed softly as he used trembling arms to grasp the wooden frame of the bunk before hoisting himself up onto it.

Fitzjames hummed his approval and long bony fingers carded through his hair in praise, “Good boy.”

Keeping his neck straight and his heard forward, Jopson couldn’t stop his body from trembling. This was so wrong… this had to be a mistake.

The small bunk dipped slightly and he felt the commander’s pointed nose nuzzling through his hair, inhaling deeply as long arms wrapped around him to begin to unbutton his peacoat.

“There’s a good boy…” he purred softly into his ear before teasing the shell with a warm frisky tongue.

It took every bone in his body to will himself to not scream, to not fight, to… just sit there and let this man have his way with him as he was ordered to.

What was Francis thinking?

This was not something he normally would have done.

So why was it being done now?

Crozier hated Fitzjames, this made no sense, he was more likely to share his whiskey with the scoundrel rather than his lover.

Right?

He did mean enough to the Irish man after all.

Didn’t he?

A chill on his skin snapped him back to reality and he watched as Fitzjames tossed his undershirt to the floor of the bed cabin.

Sizeable warm palms ran over his quivering shoulders, rubbing tenderly as if to put warmth back into them.

This was wrong.

“Sir, please...” he tried one last time.

“Now, now Jopson, you were being so good…” the commander scolded voice dripping with lust.

**Francis.**

A warm hand with long fingers trailed down his neck, down his belly, and down and down… until they it came to rest heavily on the unmistakable bulge in the front of his trousers.

Thomas squeezed his eyes shut tightly and let out a breathy whine, his hips canting up into the firm groping palm that he could feel the warmth radiating off of.

**Francis.**

Commander Fitzjames’s other arm moved so that a strong hand could grasp hold of his jaw.

Whimpering softly tried to pull his chin free but nails dug into his flesh in silent threat so he stilled again and Fitzjames’s mouth nipped at the thin skin that covered the back of his left auricle, he bit it rather hard and Jopson gave a startled cry one hand shooting up to touch the now sore ear.

The commander though, he merely grabbed his wrist and directed his hand back to the previous position by his side. 

“Shh. Enough of that. Remember, be good and I’ll make sure you’re taken care of.” 

**Francis. **

“You want this don’t you?” the older man asked, and gave his question further emphasis with a firm squeeze to the bulging erection in his trousers.

Jopson let out a small sob, sniffling and squeezing his eyes tightly closed to force back his tears as he uttered so very, very softly, “N-No…” 

“Tsk, your mouth says no, but this down here…” James said, pausing to rub his hand firmly against his straining member, “, this is saying yes.” 

“P-Please… please, sir, please don’t do this…” 

Fitzjames clicked his tongue against his ear and hushed him softly, letting his tongue find sensitive spots behind his ear in between spoken words. “Unbutton your pants, Jopson.”

Trembling hands and equally quivering fingers scrabbled against the front panel of his trousers as the commander continued to tease sensitive ears. 

“Put your hands back where they were.” he ordered sharply as soon as the front panel to black trousers were free.

**Francis.**

Jopson stiffened slightly but he did obey letting his hands fall back to his sides as James’s rubbed him through his trousers. 

“Ahh--s-sir… nngh… p-please...” Jopson whined, his resolve starting to crack as firm touches to his groin shot straight to the fire burning in his belly.

Fitzjames let out a throaty chuckle sliding his hand up to let long fingers burrow beneath the waistband of the steward’s trousers and soon sliding his hand down the front of them eliciting a small gasp. 

“Mmhm… see? If you behave I’ll treat you nice, to that I will honour.” the man purred.

All the sudden two strong hands were on his shoulders and he was flipped over onto his back with the commander leaning over him, left hand moving down to return to the depths of his trousers as he lay there staring with wide and wet eyes.

**Francis.**

His captain loved him, surely this was a mistake, and once Francis realized this when he sobered up he would be beside himself. 

More so if he were to allow this to happen. 

Francis knew he how smart he was, he’d said so several times while they lay tucked up together in a snug embrace amidst the captain’s berth 

It was no secret to him at this point that sometimes the man’s excessive indulgence in spirits left him vulnerable to mistakes, and that the Irish captain was at times reliant on him to see through that these mistakes don’t occur.

Every fiber in his being told him this was one of those mistakes.

All the same he steeled himself and all at once the adrenaline came flying out of him like a three ton brick wall.

He was hurt at the uncertainty of the whole situation. 

Was it an accident? Or did Francis betray him? 

The thought of Francis betraying his trust, betraying his body like this for the pleasure of another man, like he was so me cheap whore… it infuriated him and rage flared through him just as violently as fire can take an icelocked ship.

“I said no!” he yelled and he jerked his left leg back and before he could stop himself his booted foot hit the commander square in the chest, HARD. 

A rush of air was expelled from the commander’s lungs and the man’s larger frame sagged on top him for a second, as he himself was left recoiling in absolute horror at the realization of what he’d just done.

It didn’t take but a few seconds for the man to stop gasping for breath in take to settle back on his haunches, pushing long strands of dark brown hair out of his face to reveal something that absolutely terrified Jopson to no end.

He’d barely had time to register the snarl that had been directed at him before a sharp elbow planted into his sternum and he let out a terrified yelp that was stifled by a punishing hand clamped over his mouth tightly. Another hand gripped a fistful of inky black hair by their roots and pulled his head up until his neck was straining painfully.

Oh he’d really done it now. 

Long digits were pulling back on his hair until he whined with discomfort, eyes screwn tightly shut as the commander’s breath tickled his brow.

“Be silent!” the man hissed fiercely, the hand wrapped around his mouth squeezed tightly into his cheeks to further his order.

Thomas did just that, gritting his teeth and staring at the man with sea-colored eyes filled with panic and tears.

“Mr Jopson, I can assure you that the last thing you want to do is get into a tussle with me.”

A silent tear trickled down his cheek and Fitzjames’ grip on his hair lessened just the slightest bit and the man’s thumb caressed his cheek lightly.

“I will make myself very plain Thomas,” Jopson’s ears perked at the use of his Christian name and the man continued, “I have every intention of making this nice for you, but should you continue to misbehave in the manner you are currently, I will have no problem completely immobilizing you and treating you like some doxy in a public house. Do I make myself clear?”

The younger man nodded and James let his hand fall away from his face with a small mildly satisfied noise from the back of his throat.

Commander Fitzjames pulled at the knot in his cravat, easing it free and giving him a stern look as he held the silk between his fingers. 

“I would, have you put your hands out in front of you however.” 

“I-I’ll be good for you, sir, I promise…” Jopson tried only for fingers to twist into his hair again in waring until he whimpered.

“Do not make me repeat myself.” 

“O-Of course, sir…” Jopson whispered tearfully offering up the quivering things so the man could wrap the silk tightly around his wrists. 

James caught the overwhelming fear shining brightly within those eyes and he gave a small shrug before manipulating the arms up over his head so they were resting against the wooden frame of his bunk. 

He was pleased that they remained there when he let go of them so he could pick at the diamond knot in the steward’s own silk neck cloth, pulling it free and using it to interweave the articles together while he secured them down to the wooden frame of his bunk. 

Tugging on the silk bindings experimentally he nodded in approval of the makeshift restraint when it clearly held firm. 

Jopson’s hands weren’t going to be moving anytime soon. 

Keeping his hold on those wrists he leaned down and nibbled playfully on an ear, grinding his hips against Jopson’s which drew forth a small whimper. He ran his palm down the plain of the steward’s chest, taking in the sight before him hungrily.

All smooth skin from his shoulders to his biceps before dark wiry hair frolicked upon his forearms. Moving down from the hue of a four o’clock shadow, the man’s chest was adorned with light dustings of hair between the expanse of two dark nipples… two very, perky dark nipples. Tight-bellied, yet lean with muscle and hair trailing from his chest across his stomach, a dark thatch of hair that began just beneath his belly button. 

Petty Officer Thomas Jopson, Captain’s Steward aboard the H.M.S Terror, the apparent lover of Francis Crozier, whatever you wish to call him, he was a very gorgeous man.

_’I wonder just how sensitive this beautiful thing is…’_

“You are extraordinary, Mr Jopson.” he breathed as he leaned down to let his lips brush against the steward’s.

The young man went five shades of red and he wiggled his hips slightly at the feel of a velvety soft mouth teasing against his.

James caressed that prickly jaw with the back of his hand for a moment before letting fingers trail down his neck and chest, grinding his hips against the smaller body beneath him.

Closing his eyes and letting out a throaty breath relishing in the delicious friction against his swollen prick, he absentmindedly continued to let his hands brush over coarse yet surprisingly soft chest hair on the man’s sternum. 

However, as his pinky brushed lightly against a rock hard nub everything seemed to explode. 

“A-Ah! Ohhhh!” the rather LOUD cry tore from the steward’s lips and the pressure against his bare, throbbing endowment was increased as the younger man’s hips canted up into his in shameless want.

James’ eyes shot open in surprise mouth agape as he looked at the young man below him, his face was flushed, and mouth parted in a beautiful little ‘o’, panting and alive with small little wiggles, quivering clothed thighs now parted the slightest bit. 

It was as if he’d hit a magic button that turned the man’s resistance into complete compliance. 

“Oh, what’s all this now?” he drawled. 

The younger man’s eyes met his and they were wide and his face red with embarrassment. 

James raised an amused eyebrow with a charming smile, “Was it this?” 

He moved his thumb clockwise in the other direction letting the pad tease the hard fleshy nub and Jopson sucked deeply a rather high pitched squeak, full lips parted to unveil white teeth and eyes were squeezed tightly shut.

“Goodness lad, you are sensitive.” the commander chuckled pressing down and rubbing against the warmed bud.

“Ohh… C-Christ…sir…” the steward gasped hips wiggling with anticipation. 

Fitzjames couldn’t help but grin broadly at the change in Crozier’s steward, he squeezed the flesh between two long slender fingers and the boy’s moans seemed to increase in volume and hips ground against him in pleading, “Oh, you naughty little minx, you like that?” 

“Nngh… please sir… oh I-I need…” 

When he leaned in to capture young Thomas’s mouth into a passionate kiss, he was thrilled to find it eagerly returned, full pink lips meeting his in a near insatiable hunger and desperate need.

As he continued to ravage this beautiful man’s mouth he took the time to reach long arms down to ease the offending trousers and drawers from his prize, and Jopson remained still, pliant, and malleable in his hands the entire time, meeting his frenzied kisses between small groans and pleas for more. 

Pulling back slightly so he could settle back and ease the man’s trousers around his ankles he sat back on his haunches again, eyeing the steward up and down. 

It would seem that past the waist the man’s beauty still flourished. 

The dark thatch of hair, once only visible above the waistband of trousers now lay open to peering eyes and how marvelous it was. Hair, just as inky black as the stuff atop the lad’s head cradled between it a magnificent erection. 

Deep red with a pulsating vein that throbbed against the underside of it. Jopson’s prick stood proudly with a large sharp upward curve to it that had the organ near flush up against Jopson’s lower belly, smearing precum into it’s hirsute surface. 

His thighs were creamy and smooth with hair adorning the strong lower legs and calves. 

As his eyes scanned he couldn’t help but stop and stare at the long eight inch pink, and particularly nasty looking scar that ran the length of Jopson’s right shin. 

Without thinking he let warm fingertips caress the flaw in the skin and Jopson startled momentarily before relaxing again with a small almost affectionate sounding hum. 

“My how, exquisite you are Thomas Jopson.” Fitzjames purred as he moved up to give the man a brief chaste kiss before moving his head down so it was level with Jopson’s chest.

“T-Thank you, sir… ohhhh…” Jopson trailed off at the sensation of the commander’s tongue flicking eagerly against his left nipple. 

Grinning at the bodily response, James pulled back with a devious fire to his eyes, 

“Look at you Jopson. One touch,” he paused to use his other hand to tease the lad’s left nipple, “,here” he pinched it roughly between two fingers and got an instantaneous moan and grinding of hips as a response, “and you turn into such a wanton little whore.” 

“Don’t you look absolutely fuckable Mr Jospon, wiggling and moaning like a little harlot, hands bound, mmm…” 

Jopson was panting heavily and his once so nicely parted hair was starting to glisten with sweat. “S-Sir…” 

The commander hummed deep in his throat rubbing the small bud between the pads of his fingers before moving back in again to lavish the other peak with his tongue. 

“Nnghh! Oh… s-sir… please I might… t-too soon…” Jopson pleaded desperately.

He just might too. God this was… it was amazing, torturous but heavenly. Francis certainly never stimulated his nipples this long, for this reason. 

Francis knew all his sensitive spots.

His ears, especially the small spots just behind and below them, the underside of his jaw along his throat, the nape of his neck, the twin divots above his buttocks, what was it his mother said they were called, Dimples of Venus? 

The small peaks on his chest though they were his Achilles heel. 

_’From this kind of stimulation? Oh well, this I absolutely must see.’_

Fitzjames pulled back, blowing on the saliva covered bud which hardened even further a full body shiver shot through the younger man as well as a high pitched whine. 

“Mmm…” he purred, giving the tiny thing one last lick before wrapping his lips around it.

“Ah...oohh… s-sir…. Oohhh please…” Jopson panted as his tongue danced around the hard nub of flesh.

Jopson’s hips ground firmly against him and he could feel the wetness copiously leaking down the side of his prick against his hip. 

It was when he sucked the thing further into his mouth that the pressure seemed to send the young man over the edge as a loud keening cry erupted beneath him and hips stuttered before he felt hot ribbons painting his chest. 

The young man’s arms slumped back again as did his head which rest sweatily against the striped pillow as he panted with sexual exertion. 

He pulled off the small bud with an audibly wet _‘pop’_ sliding up to kiss those panting lips which lazily returned the favor as eyes flitted heavily with fatigue.

“My, my, my... so sensitive.”

“I… y-yes, sir… v-very...” still trying to catch breath, he panted out his agreement.

Commander Fitzjames hummed softly as he kissed those swollen lips one last time before scooting downward to settle himself between Jopson’s legs. 

“Oh, sir, I do not think I’ll be able to-” 

“How old are you, Jopson?” 

“I- er… Twenty-eight, sir.” 

“Mmm, well judging by the evidence here,” he paused to run his palm along the already slightly elevated state of Jopson’s prick. “,you have the stamina of a man still in his early twenties. Just be good for me, lay back and relax. I’ll do the work you shan’t need to do a thing.” 

Still trying to regain his senses from the intense orgasm Jopson just nodded and settled back down, though he watched curiously as the commander turned his attention to his right leg and sat up again to look at the large scar upon it. 

A curious thought filled Jopson’s head as he shifted his gaze from his own scar and to the sweater clad man above him and before he could think better of himself he’d spoken.

“Might I make a request, sir?” 

James turned his attention to meet his rapidly heating face, he looked intrigued.

“I suppose that depends what lay in this request.” the man stated simply. 

Licking his dry lips nervously he managed to force his words out in a hushed whisper. “May I see you?”

His voice didn’t seem to meet the man’s ears and his response was enough proof of that, “What was that? Don’t be shy Jopson, speak up.”

“I… may I see you, sir?” he asked shyly, nervous eyes meeting a dark gaze.

To his surprise the commander smiled fondly at the words and unbuttoned his waistcoat shrugging out of it and tossing it to the floor and pulling his sweater up and over his head. He made fast work of the white undershirt beneath it and divested himself of it in the same manner, tossing it aside.

As Jopson let his own eyes wander the revealed flesh James turned back to stare curiously at the scar on the smaller man’s leg.

“What terrible thing has happened to mar such beauty?” Fitzjames asked curiously as he studied the old injury. 

“Sir James Ross, sir.”

His given answer struck him hard as he didn’t fully understand its meaning and he looked at the steward in surprise at such an accusation.

“The accident in 1842, sir, when Erebus and Terror had the high impact collision.” 

Oh. That made sense, he supposed.

“I see.” he whispered bending down to kiss the marred skin delicately before settling himself between Jopson’s legs again. 

_“Tu es beau.”_

Curious and puzzled by the words he peered down at the man as he spread his legs for him. “I… um… pardon me, sir, but… could you repeat that?”

James peered up at him with those wondrous dark eyes. _“Tu es beau.”_

When he continued to stare Fitzjames smiled up at him, “You are beautiful.”

He blushed deeply and despite how inappropriate he knew it was, he smiled broadly down at the commander. 

“Oh, thank you very much, sir.” 

With that James used his hands to part pale globes to further access the body before him. 

“Commander Fitzjames.” came the tentative call of his title. 

Glancing up again the steward’s face was tinted a slight pink as a small half smile set with a rather shy air stared down at him.

“Yes?”

“You…” the lad paused to clear his throat briefly, “If I may be so bold, sir, you are remarkable in your own fashion.” 

James felt his own heart flutter with warmth and he smiled up at him warmly. 

“Your compliments warm me sailor.” he said, kissing the man’s inner thigh before going back to his task. 

Jopson settled back again but almost immediately shot up again when he felt something warm, wet, and very fleshy licking at his entrance.

“O-Oh!” he cried out though this was more out of alarm.

That wasn’t what he thought it was? Was it? 

Francis had NEVER done that. 

It was so obscene and so dirty! 

Yet it felt SO shamefully good!

“Shh, relax.” James’s voice reached his ears. 

Settling back again he bit his bottom lip as the man continued to lick and tease the small ring of muscle, saliva coating the thing and he couldn’t help but wiggle his hips at such deliciously indecent pleasure.

“Ahh….. oooh…. s-sir… Oh G-God… t-that’s... “

Commander Fitzjames let out a rather amused chuckle at the frequent wriggling of his lower body, tightening his hold on supple cheeks as he tried to keep him open. “Now stop that, I need you to hold still for me.” 

“I-I can’t help it, sir…o-ooooh!” his words trailed into a groan as the captain’s tongue forced him open when the very wet and wriggling appendage entering his heated passage.

“O-Ohh… oh my God… s-sir!” he yelped with another sharp wiggle of his hips. 

Francis had NEVER done this.

James let out a throaty moan and two long arms wrapped around his thighs, each long limb winding beneath them and muscles strained as the man held them down.

Oh God… the mere indignity of his predicament was winding searing hot warmth around his loins his cock was already to full hardness again and had begun to weep with arousal. 

Here he was captain’s steward… hands bound with a superior officers neck piece, naked and covered in previous spend, held down so that he was helplessly splayed and left to the mercy of a very talented and very naughty tongue.

The sensation was mind blowing and it left him shaken and breathless and wanting so much more! It left him panting and gasping and begging as those strong arms held his quivering legs open. 

For several moments the commander worked him open with a skilled mouth before he pulled away and released him, then sat up. 

As Fitzjames parted his legs and began to line himself up Jopson eyed the scars that lay against the pale expanse of the captain’s left side and bicep.

The fabled Chinese Sniper tale, that Captain Crozier hated so vehemently, in the flesh. 

_“Tu es beau.”_ James repeated as hard flesh pressed up against his entrance. 

Jopson blushed deeply wetting his lips nervously before trying to repeat the sentence, rather awfully because he didn’t know how to speak French.

Fitzjames laughed heartily at the genuine attempt which furthered his blush but the commander shook his head in earnest, “A valiant attempt Thomas, not to worry I shall teach it to you later. If you wish me to do so.” 

He nodded, uttering a small ‘thank you, sir.’ as he let the tension leave his shoulders.

James leaned down to kiss the right center of his breast over the steadily thrumming vital organ that lay within before positioning himself again. 

The steward groaned softly as the head of the commander’s endowment entered his saliva slick passage and he clenched briefly around it before easing up again. 

“Oh… G-Good Christ… ahhhnn….” James grunted, as he gradually moved forward inch by inch. 

The first few inches of the man’s arousal wasn’t that bad but there came one moment where his entire body jostled with a pain he’d felt so long ago before his body had been broken in by Francis that he’d almost forgotten the feeling.

“Ahh… s-stop!” he yelped with a recoiling jerk of his hips. 

Alarmed by such a sudden cry of what sounded like genuine pain James halted his entry and looked at him with a serious expression but at the same time a wariness was there, likely in trepidation that he was trying to get out of the act again. 

He panted heavily as he rested his head back against the pillows trying to think of how to word his highly inappropriate but true explanation. 

“Please… give me a second, sir… Francis isn’t…” he trailed off face going almost violet with blood. 

Fitzjames seemed to understand though and his own face went mildly pink for a brief second before a cocky grin spread across his face at the information that his manhood was larger than that of Terror’s Captain.

“D-Don’t you ever repeat that, sir…” he found himself saying before he could stop himself. 

James nodded despite his chuckle, “Of course not.” 

The man waited as he wiggled and shifted slightly his hips, bottom lip being worried between teeth as he did so. 

It was a good several moments or so before he finally spoke again. “Gentle please, sir.” 

That was exactly what he was too, easing forward slowly and watching the man for signs of discomfort until he was fully seated snugly inside the smaller body beneath him. 

As the last bit of Fitzjames’s cock filled him up he breathed out a small breath spreading his legs further to try to accommodate him. 

“Fuck… oh God... you feel magnificent… How do you feel?” James inquired.

“F-Full…” he breathed out a candid reply a bead of sweat trickling down his neck. 

Chuckling, James decided to give him another brief moment to adjust should he need it. 

Needed it probably, but he didn't want it and he let the man know with an eager wiggle of hips back against him. 

Commander Fitzjames didn’t waste a second and he set a slow, sensual pace that forced a small pleased groan from his throat. 

The captain used his long proportioned everything to his advantage, draping his body over his and looping an arm around his waist as lips met his with a dire thirst.

Dashing, charming, and amiable James Fitzjames. Wait a moment, he was being fucked by the most handsome man in her majesty’s royal navy. 

This thought itself childishly made him rather giddy and he smiled against the commander’s lips and the older man smiled in return, putting a bit more power into his thrusts. 

“Look at you, all tied up and nowhere to go...stuffed full with my cock and eagerly wanting more.” he punctuated his sentence with one brutal snap of his hips that had Jopson seeing stars and a bright flash of light that sparked through his vision, unbridled warmth tightened considerably in his belly and he threw his head back with a loud roar of euphoric bliss. 

“Such pretty noises… such a pretty face… such a pretty body that is very full, indeed. You are so very, _very_ pretty.” 

“J-James!” Jopson gasped out, forgetting himself for a moment in the pleasure as the thrusts from the man’s engorged prick continued to hit that same spot over and over. 

At the use of his name the commander let his control slip away completely, close to his release, fucking Crozier’s stweard with reckless abandon unitl the smaller man was a blubbering mess of moans and cries that he had to stiffle with a hand as they got too loud he feared waking someone. 

Now that he thought about it, he probably should have tried to quiet the lad down earlier when he’d discovered the shocking sensitivity of his nipples. 

Bridgens was likely going to scold him in the morning. 

It wasn’t long after this that younger man’s body seized violently, clamping down around him a couple times before coming with a loud cry of ecstasy against his hand. 

The spasming of those muscles had drew forth his own release and he came deep inside the smaller body with a silent roar of bliss, head thrown back and arm still holding the steward’s waist close to him pulling him even closer.

He slumped down on top of Crozier’s steward panting heavily as fatigue threatened to pull him towards sleep.

Wearily he peered down at Jopson, surprised momentarily to find him unconscious breathing heavily, until he remembered the man’s sex drive had ran to full completion, twice. He was probably exhausted. 

He knew he was. 

Still panting and coming down from his euphoric high, he reached blindly behind him for the blankets which he pulled over them both. 

Dammit the oil lamp across the room. 

Oh well it was almost burned out anyway. It’d put itself out.

With that last thought he scooched over slightly so that he wasn’t bearing his full weight on the smaller man and soon James found himself drifting off into a sexual exhaustion induced slumber.


	4. Chapter 4

When Jopson awoke in the narrow berth, squeezed between the railing and a warm, solid body next to his, he was not initially alarmed because it felt exactly like his captain’s bed, and he had woken up in bed with Captain Crozier many mornings after an intense night of making love. 

But then he realized that this was different—this man’s scent was different, his heavy arm across Jopson’s chest was longer and lankier, his head full of lush dark hair. 

_ Fitzjames! _

Jopson groaned. The memories of last night returned, stark and inexorably. That confounded note from his drunk captain—_ what on earth was Crozier thinking! _Closing his eyes in frustration, Jopson rubbed them as if he could force back the memories into a distant dream. But they were real, all right. All this had indeed happened. This wicked man next to him—Jopson propped himself up on his elbows, looking down at the still-dozing commander and his naked back and shoulders—had used and abused him as if that were his God-given right.

And that wasn’t even the worst part of it.

Jopson sighed. He should get out of here before Fitzjames awoke. He wasn’t sure whether he could stand to look into the commander’s face this morning. No, the worst of last night had not been his humiliation at Fitzjames’ hands, but the double and triple degradation he had caused for himself by being unable to contain his body’s response, his weakness at Fitzjames’ exploring hands and mouth, his shameful eagerness to have Fitzjames’ cock fill him fully …

_ No more! _ Jopson squeezed his eyes shut. This would be the first and last time he succumbed to this sort of depravity. 

Slowly and gingerly so as not to wake the sleeping commander, he climbed out of the bunk. His clothes were strewn all over the floor, and it took him a moment to identify his drawers and shirt before quickly slipping into them. 

Fitzjames’ touches, however … A soft shudder ran over Jopson’s back as he remembered how deliberate, how effective those touches had been. Fitzjames was like a musician, playing Jopson’s sensitive keys and strings liberally to elicit every expression of lust from him, with an ease and naturalness that was almost unsettling. How could Jopson’s own body betray him so readily? But of course—he was no less susceptible to Crozier’s attentions, and how would his body differentiate between the right and the wrong man? This was a matter of physical constitution, no more. Being young and excitable, wasn’t it to be expected that his body would demand to be touched and held even more here in this desolate cold land, in these unbearably close quarters where a fellow man’s warmth was ever near?

Jopson picked up his clothes and boots from the floor, his mind set on walking back to _ Terror_. How would Crozier react to seeing him? Would he have an explanation for what he’d done? Or perhaps he had forgotten all about the note by now. Jopson decided, with a heavy heart, that for once he would not be able to hide his anger and disappointment from him. It was one thing—a wonderful thing!—to be the captain’s servant in more than official capabilities, always willing and ready to please and pleasure him, but it was very much a different thing to be shared and given away for wanton abuse like a common plaything! He knew it was something many stewards put up with, even welcomed, but he’d never known Crozier to be the sort of captain to entertain this barbaric old custom. 

“Where are you going?” quipped Fitzjames behind him.

Jopson froze in the bedcabin’s doorway, the heap of clothes nearly falling from his arm.

He turned around, facing an awake Fitzjames sitting upright on his bed. Swallowing hard, Jopson stood straight, looking at him with what he hoped was unwavering composure. “I must leave, sir.”

“Do you, indeed?” Fitzjames raised an eyebrow, which together with his sleepy, heavy-lidded eyes gave his face an expression of cruel sensuality. He pulled the blanket from his lap to reveal his naked body and half-erect cock underneath, and gave it a languid tug with one hand. 

Involuntarily, Jopson stared. Something about the commander’s unabashed display held his attention despite his mind to leave. Certainly, he was beautiful (hadn’t he been called “the most handsome man in the Royal Navy”?), but that alone couldn’t be it. Most handsome people did not know how attractive they truly were, such as Crozier’s First Lieutenant Little, but Commander Fitzjames radiated the self-assuredness of one who not only knew, but was intent on making sure the whole world knew, too, and would be unable to resist his charms. 

And it was mesmerizing. Jopson had meant to leave, but he stayed. Just remained there, standing at the door. Staring at that prick which just a few hours ago, hard and ready, had determinedly opened him up, filled him oh _ so _full, over and over again. And how his body had quivered, deliciously tightened around that cock—he could almost feel it even now. 

The memories were fresh and forceful. Jopson exhaled, shamefully realizing it sounded like a whimper. But he couldn’t stop it, couldn’t stop the rush of warmth in his lower regions, the tightening deep in his gut.

“You _ still _ want this, I can tell,” Fitzjames purred. “Even after I fucked you so hard and good and dirty, you still can’t get enough. Does Crozier know what a whore his steward is?” He spread his thighs wider in an aggressive display of his words. “Come here, sweetheart.”

Helpless, Jopson stood there, mouth half open, face burning. He knew what to do. He should open that door, storm outside, perhaps call for help. It was easy, wasn’t it?

Except that it wasn’t.

“Come here.” Fitzjames waved at him, but it wasn’t an order. Fitzjames could not, did not need to order him. He merely tore down Jopson’s resolve with one look, with one gentle but filthy word after another. “Come, and I’ll fuck you just like last night. You loved it. You’ll love it again. Remember how hard you spilled, with my cock deep in you?”

“Sir,” Jopson gasped. Why was he still standing here? He should leave. _ Now. _ But Fitzjames had him fixated, entranced with every word and gesture.

The commander gave his cock, which was now growing fully hard, another languid stroke. “You were made to take this. Remember how good it felt inside you? You gave me a right hard time, always clenching so tightly around me. Like you tried to make me come. But I don’t blame you, you can’t control that. Come here, lad. You can have that again.”

How was resisting so impossible? 

Jopson let his clothes drop to the floor. 

Fitzjames nodded, smiling in appreciation, and waved Jopson toward him. “Yes, that’s it. Come here. Good boy.”

A little voice in Jopson’s head shouted at him to _ stop, get out of there now _, but it fell silent when he made the first step toward the bunk. Indeed, all of his mind went silent. 

It took just one more step. 

And when Fitzjames grabbed him, throwing him down onto the still-warm mattress, the anticipation alone overtook Jopson so greatly that he gasped it out, shuddering, in a wanton, loud moan.

*

Francis Crozier, as soon as he awoke that morning, did not notice anything different until he pulled the bell-string to call for Jopson.

The steward did not show up.

_ What on earth!? _

He rang once more but heard no sound of footsteps at his door. Unlike every other morning, no one slid open the door, pulling aside the woolen curtain. There was no brightly smiling Jopson entering his cabin, carrying his dressing gown. Usually, he would now help his captain into the warm covering, whereupon Crozier would go into the great cabin to relieve himself. Jopson, meanwhile, would leave and shortly return with a pitcher of warm water, fresh towels, and a slop pail. 

Crozier sat up on the bed, feet dangling precariously over the cold wooden floor, and rubbed his eyes. Slowly, the events of yesterday returned to his memory. He had sent Jopson over to _ Erebus _, that much was clear. But why? It was Commander Fitzjames’ birthday, wasn’t it? But—

_ God’s blazing balls! _

Crozier was at once wide awake, and remembered everything. He groaned at the fresh recollections, shameful and merciless. What had he been thinking?! Sharing a steward in that manner was not only frowned upon nowadays, but he’d always prided himself as being above such barbaric customs. Young men today took up this line of work expecting to serve no one but their captain. But Fitzjames was a gentleman, surely? He would not force himself upon Jopson, would he?

As Crozier’s clothes had not been laid out for him that morning it took him a while to retrieve them, and he dressed in a rush. When he left his quarters his cravat was not tied and his hair not properly combed, but that mattered not, he must make haste! Stumbling out into the doorway, he ordered one of the other stewards, the first man he saw there, to get him Thomas Blanky.

Minutes later, a bewildered ice master stepped on the lower deck, his slops powdered with the morning’s fresh snowflakes. He looked at his captain and old friend, brows furrowed as he noticed Crozier’s unusually lacking manner of dress.

“Thomas, I need your help.” Crozier invited Blanky into the privacy of the great cabin, away from prying ears. “I might … I have made a mistake.”

“Yeah?”

Crozier told him.

The ice master’s expression went from disbelief to instant discomfort, and he groaned. “_ Francis. _ You didn’t!”

“Accompany me to _ Erebus _, please. I need you to restrain me, should I feel compelled to punch that smug bastard Fitzjames into his square face when he’s telling me what a sweet lay my steward is. And afterwards, I need you to make up some sort of … reason.”

“Francis, what on earth do you want me to—”

“You can tell everyone that we went to wish Captain Fitzjames a belated happy birthday.”

Blanky exhaled. For a moment, it seemed that he wanted to say something, but no words were needed for Crozier to understand him: They looked at each other, then Blanky shook his head, and threw his hands up in resignation. “Fine, then. I’ll go with you. Let’s make this quick.”

*

They reached _ Erebus _ several agonizing minutes later. Below deck, a visibly anxious Mr Bridgens received them, and told them that Mr Fitzjames must not be disturbed at this time yet.

“But Mr Jopson is here, isn’t he?” Francis demanded to know.

“Well, yes …” Bridgens’ uneasy grin did nothing to alleviate their concerns. “But Captain Fitzjames assured me his guest is—uh—well taken care of.”

“We must see Mr Jopson right now!” Crozier found it hard not to yell at poor Mr Bridgens. 

“I’m to serve them breakfast in thirty minutes. If you could wait until then—”

Crozier and Blanky shared a look, and came to an unspoken understanding as they’d often done in the past when it came to playing fast and loose with a rule. A slight nod from Blanky, and they both jumped past a surprised Bridgens, running towards the captain’s cabin.

“Sir!” Bridgens shouted after them. “Sir, you’re not supposed—”

But they were already inside the cabin.

*

James Fitzjames could not believe his luck. This morning all he needed were some filthy words to lead sweet Thomas Jopson back into his bed. Technically, he was not allowed to have him again as yesterday had passed, but when a handsome young man so clearly needed it how could you deny him? It wasn’t his fault that Jopson was so responsive, so eager, and now so wholly willing, was it? 

Fitzjames knelt on his bed, looking down at Jopson as he fucked him, admiring him in all his near-naked, debauched glory, his shirt pulled up all the way to his clavicle, as he lay passively spread out for him. One of his legs was hooked over Fitzjames’ shoulder, his other limbs astray and grasping over the sheets, occasionally trembling with each of the commander’s thrusts. He whimpered and panted, eyes alternating between tightly closed with furrowed brows and looking, wide open, at the older man. What pretty eyes they were! All too often Fitzjames had wondered what Jopson’s eyes would be like in moments of passion, and now he knew. They glinted wet, overcome with the intensity of the sensation, and seemed to demand more, _ more _, every time Jopson looked at him. Did he look at Crozier in the same way, Fitzjames wondered, or was his captain’s pleasure merely another duty for him? Somehow Fitzjames could not picture Crozier giving his steward a decent, hearty fucking. That dullard Captain Crozier was lucky if he could manage the old cannon to stand at all.

Sounds from outside the berth. So he was there. Crozier was there. Fitzjames grinned to himself.

Jopson beneath him seemed not to have heard it, lost as he was in his pleasure. 

So let him see it, then. Let Crozier see everything.

Panting, Fitzjames kept thrusting and braced himself for the moment the door would be ripped open. He was determined to draw out the scene for as long as possible, to show Crozier what his steward deserved. However, Jopson was tightening around him involuntarily, threatening to force his prick into spending, and it took all of Fitzjames’ iron will to slow himself down, to stop himself from going over the brink.

“Can’t … ah…” Jopson moaned. His head was thrown back, eyes squeezed shut, and his leaking cock twitched, spreading clear fluid all over his heaving stomach. With a shaky hand, he grasped it to speed up his release. Normally, Fitzjames would slap away that hand, as he wanted to be the one deciding when he let his lover finish, but this time he let him be. He was so close himself, and all he still wanted was for Crozier to see. 

A thundering step near him. With a rumble, the door slid open, and Fitzjames, grinning, locked eyes with a stunned Captain Francis Crozier.

In the same moment he felt Jopson convulsing around him violently, and both he and Crozier watched as the steward, mouth open in a loud gasp and head far back in the pillow, arched his back and shuddered throughout his climax. Jopson was so completely lost in it that he did not notice his captain’s presence, and he spent in two copious jets all over his torso, with yet more following in thick drips.

“Good morning, Francis.” Fitzjames turned back to Crozier, brushing a sweaty lock away from his brow. 

Jopson had come to his senses, and Fitzjames felt him wince. He grasped him firmly, thrusting further into him, all the while looking at Crozier. “Nice morning, isn’t it, Captain? I look forward to the ice report.”

“Captain,” Jopson gasped, his voice almost at a horrified high pitch. He tried to prop himself up on his elbows, but Fitzjames gently pushed him back down. “I’m not done yet, sweetheart.”

Crozier inhaled deeply. “Mr Fitzjames, I command you to cease _ at once _—”

“It’s no use, captain,” Blanky’s voice shouted from somewhere in the great cabin but Fitzjames couldn’t see him; not only was Crozier blocking the doorway and the view into the room, but Blanky also made no effort to show himself. “Just let them finish!”

“I will not,” Crozier turned around, roaring, “let this fucking bastard abuse my servant!”

He was, however, out-shouted immediately by an exasperated Blanky. “_ Francis _, shut that fuckin’ door and come here!”

Fitzjames watched as a surprised Crozier was physically dragged away from the door, which Blanky then slammed shut without looking into the room. Through the wooden grille he was able to hear Blanky shouting, “Now sit yer fuckin’ ass down, Francis, and let your Jopson over there have a good time, ‘cause he clearly has, and if that bothers you, you’ve brought it upon yourself with your drunken antics, so sit it out like a man and have some goddam fuckin’ civility, you utter and complete twat!”

There was no response to be heard from Crozier, but Fitzjames could very well imagine him red-faced and staring at his long-time friend, unable to respond because deep down he knew that Blanky was right. If anyone could handle Captain Crozier, it must be Ice Master Blanky.

As there was silence, Fitzjames was able to focus right back on his business. Jopson under him was still breathing hard from his release, his exhausted, heavy-lidded eyes imploring Fitzjames to finish. 

_ Very well, then. _ There could be no better sight to inspire one’s climax than this sight before Fitzjames’ eyes—Jopson’s heaving torso with his spendings all over it, his cock still swollen and leaking, his eyes and pretty cheeks glistening with tears from the intensity of his sensations. 

Fitzjames set out for the final spurt.

*

To Captain Francis Crozier it seemed like an eternity until the bedcabin door finally slid open again, and Commander Fitzjames entered the larger room. In reality, it could not have been more than fifteen minutes, and Fitzjames’ look testified to his strenuous activity just before. He was in shirtsleeves, his trousers buttoned but suspenders hanging down, hair tousled and without his cravat. His cheeks had a healthy pink tinge to them, and when he approached Crozier and Blanky sitting in chairs at the great table, Crozier could sense a musky warmth exuding from him and involuntarily stiffened. 

“Francis,” Fitzjames purred, “I am so sorry to have made you wait. Would you like some tea?”

Crozier and Blanky exchanged a look, and there was a stern stare from Blanky. Upon taking note of his friend’s unsaid words, Crozier took a deep breath and responded, “Thank you, but we only want to pick up Mr Jopson, and return him to _ Terror _.”

“Of course.” Fitzjames grinned. “He’ll be here any minute.”

The thought of what he’d done made Crozier’s stomach churn. But it had turned out to be pleasurable for Jopson, hadn’t it? His eyes and ears would not lie. But then … that, too, weighed heavy in Crozier’s gut. That _ fucking Fitzjames _ wasn’t supposed to make Jopson feel as only Crozier ought to make him feel! 

Oh, but perhaps he hadn’t. Surely Fitzjames was the kind of man who thought himself such a first-rate lover that none of his conquests, out of politeness, dared tell him otherwise—and Jopson, the embodiment of politeness, would have been playing along happily with whatever that debauched scoundrel did to him!

“Fine,” Crozier muttered, more to himself and his wretched thoughts than to the man before him.

It did not take long for Jopson to emerge. He was fully dressed, hair neatly combed, and cravat tied. If it were not for the slight blush on his face that Crozier knew so well he would not have guessed what this young man had been up to only minutes earlier. “Captain,” he acknowledged Crozier with a nod but said nothing more.

There was an awkward silence until Blanky broke it. “Well then, let’s go back to the ship, shan’t we, gentlemen!?” He grabbed his scarf and began to wrap it around himself.

Anxiety levels rising, Crozier studied Jopson’s face, but Jopson did not look at him while putting on his oversized muffler. Bridgens had joined them, carrying an armful of their heavy overcoats, and was helping them put them on.

Oh God, Jopson was angry at him. This must be it. There was no other explanation. Francis felt a wave of guilt hit him like a steam locomotive right to his stomach. He was a shameful excuse for a man and captain, a depraved libertine. 

Would he be ever able to right things?

He moved through HMS _ Erebus _ in a daze, climbing out of the hatch more automatically than consciously, along with Blanky and Jopson. 

Out on the ice, Jopson walked next to him but remained entirely silent. 

Icy gusts of wind blew around Crozier’s nose, but his face was hot enough with shame for the Arctic chill to feel rather like a cool breeze. 

He looked down at his boots. One step on the weathered ice they had evened out with so much effort. Another step. And another. No one spoke.

He could no longer stand this!

“Jopson,” Crozier panted, stopping in his tracks. He pulled his steward’s overcoat sleeve. “Wait!”

Jopson stood still next to him, at last looking at his captain—_ At last! _ Oh, how it hurt, that look of reproach from his wide, ocean-blue eyes, but how well-deserved it was! 

“Thomas, my dearest, I’m sorry,” Crozier began. “I understand you are cross with me. Disappointed. Hurt. And you have good reason to be. I made a huge mistake.”

Jopson’s eyes went even wider, and for a moment Crozier allowed himself to be lost in them, admiring with an aching heart how their bright color was enhanced by the dark lashes framing them. Then, to his great surprise, Jopson smiled.

“But, sir,” he cooed, all dimples and fine teeth. “Why on earth would I be cross with you?”

“But—aren’t you—er,” Crozier stuttered.

“I've got no reason to be.” Jopson took the liberty to rest his hand on his captain’s upper arm, an oddly comforting gesture.

“I—I,” Crozier sputtered helplessly.

“You’ve given me such a wonderful gift, sir.”

_What?_ Crozier’s eyes went wide. “A … gift?”

“But I’m afraid you had your dates confused, sir.” Jopson chuckled. “Yesterday was Mr Fitzjames’ birthday, not mine. Nonetheless, I appreciate it very much. So, I must thank you, captain!”

Crozier blinked. “_Thank _ me?”

“Oh, captain!” Jopson grinned, by all appearances highly amused. “No need to be coy! It was amazing!”

“Amazing?” Crozier echoed stupidly.

“Yes!” The way his steward breathed that single word was indistinguishable from the swooning sigh of a maiden. “Sir, it was the most _ marvelous _ time I’ve ever had in another man’s arms, the most superb experience—”

Crozier held up a hand. “Wait—Jopson, you mean—”

But Jopson was not to be stopped. He continued, louder than before, so that even Blanky who stood a few yards ahead them was bound to hear every word. “Why, yes, sir,” he exclaimed, beaming brightly. “Never before in my life have I been _ fucked _ so _ good _—with so much vigour, such endurance… oh, sir, it was truly amazing, you oughta been there, you must’ve seen how Mr Fitzjames does it—”

“Jopson…” Crozier began slowly, feeling his face heating up again despite the merciless cold wind as he tried to make sense of the words.

The younger man nodded in earnest, still smiling wide. “Truly _ amazing_, sir! He showed me a whole new world of experiences, I don’t reckon no one’s _ ever _made me feel that good before, sir!”

Crozier fumbled for words, but they eluded him. Further behind Jopson, Blanky stood with arms crossed, eyebrow raised and a filthy grin on his weathered face.

“So I truly oughta thank _ you_, sir,” Jopson beamed. “You let me have Mr Fitzjames, and I admit I wasn’t so sure about it at first, but now I can’t imagine anyone better to share a bed with!”

Dumbfounded, Crozier just stared at his pretty, radiant face as every single word sank into his stomach like one slow, agonizing punch after another.

Jopson grasped his captain’s begloved hand into his. His wide smile was irresistible, and Crozier realized he hadn’t seen him smile this widely in weeks. “Thank you so, _ so _ much, sir. This is so lovely and generous of you. You’re taking such good care of me!”

Blanky interjected. “That’s splendid, boys! I’m jolly glad that we’ve cleared up the situation! Now let’s go back to the ships, if ya please, before we all freeze our bollocks off!”

They walked back in silence, Jopson holding his captain’s hand, and Crozier dared not let go. From time to time he would look at Jopson, and his steward would respond with a smile so lovely that Crozier was at a loss for words. 

It hurt—it hurt immensely. But Francis Crozier said nothing. He knew he could not say anything. 

He deserved this.


End file.
